


Sunflowers

by karikes



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Pining, Romance, also deaf!bones, because we all need more of her, because we always need more disabled rep, more vulcan!Uhura
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-01-21 05:20:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12450444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karikes/pseuds/karikes
Summary: Leonard McCoy has been deaf since birth. After his explosive divorce from Jocelyn, he joins Starfleet with his best friend. On his first assignment, he is posted to the Enterprise with Jim and Lt. Commander Uhura, the Vulcan communications chief. Leonard struggles with the aftermath of his previous marriage while fighting his attraction to her. Her cryptic conversations leave him feeling frustrated with his romantic feelings. His dreams sure as hell don’t help anything either.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not deaf, but I believe the world always needs more disabled representation. Having done my research, the camp seems to be split in two when it comes to writing dialogue for deaf people. The one camp advocates for transliterating ASL grammar, which does not use conjunctions or more complex sentence structure, to preserve the experience of being deaf. The other camp says that it doesn’t make sense to treat ASL as if it were English while writing dialogue, because it’s not. It’s awkward and difficult to understand for people who don’t know it. This camp says the best approach is to treat it like a foreign language and translate it as such.
> 
> The latter camp is the camp I’ve fallen into. ASL (or SSL, because this is the Star Trek future, and the language is Standard, so I’m assuming sign language would adapt similarly) will be written as speech, but with “signed” instead of “said.” It just flows better in writing and I think translation would be too much of a burden to place on my readers. Several blog posts I’ve read stress the importance of body language and facial expressions in addition to signing when writing, so I’ve tried to slip that in as much as I can, but I’m autistic and therefore body language and facial expressions are…not my forte.
> 
> If I have any deaf/HOH readers and you feel I’ve made a mistake or just have some tips to write deaf characters better, please let me know!! I welcome your input! Leave a comment or find my tumblr inbox [here](https://uhurasnyota.tumblr.com/ask)!
> 
>  **warning!!!**  
>  There are two mentions of verbal and physical abuse in the first couple hundred words of this fic, but I never go into detail.

Leonard lifts his hands and begins to speak, assured in his movements. Irina used to say his hands look like birds. He likes to think that they are: they carry everything he wants to be and go places he can only dream. 

But Irina isn’t six anymore, her blond curls pressed against his cheek, and he isn’t ten either, with lanky limbs and a desperate desire to be heard in a world with no sound. Leonard is twenty-four, and he’s not telling his sister he loves her haircut. He’s telling the divorce lawyer why he wants a restraining order against Jocelyn.

She grants it, because Jocelyn can’t explain away the bruises or the recordings Jim made for him.

His mother tells him to come home when it’s done and Leonard is free. He does, because he is too exhausted to think about trying to recover on his own.

He goes to therapy and comes home to his mother’s warm arms and Irina’s quick hands. His father reads his favorite series to Leonard at night. He watches George McCoy’s lips move, shaping the words his son cannot hear. Leonard puts his hand on his father’s neck and feels the vibrations travel through his fingertips.

His bruises heal. He thinks about what he’s going to do with himself. He paints- which is fucking ridiculous because he’s never been artistic, but Irina dumped some watercolors on his bed after he’d been home for two weeks and it turns out he’s actually not half-bad. It releases some stress and his therapist says it’s good for him, so he paints landscape after landscape while he thinks. His mother hangs them in the hall, until the walls are covered with mountains and trees and lakes.

Leonard decides after three months that he wants to join Starfleet. Irina laughs when he tells her, her throat exposed as she tosses her head back. 

“Of course you want to go to space after your bitch of an ex,” she signs. “You’ll never run into her up there.”

Leonard smiles and signs back, “You’re not wrong.”

*

Jim goes to Starfleet with him, which Leonard could not be more relieved about. He’s worried about how much trouble Jim gets into and hopes that the heavy workload of the Academy will rein him in some.

It kind of does, but Jim still gets into fights that leave Leonard tight-lipped as he bandages his face. And then Jim starts annoying some instructor and the fights lessen. Leonard is glad but worried that Jim will get into something over his head. His courseload is heavy, even though he’s already a doctor and pulling double shifts in the clinic.

They get through in three years, the both of them- somehow- and manage to get posted to the same ship by yet another miracle.

Turns out the instructor Jim’s been bothering is the first officer of the ship and his mentor is the captain. Leonard wants to haul the kid by his ears down the length of the ship when he finds out, but the communications officer steps forward to greet him, and he needs his hands free.

She’s Vulcan, like the first officer, but her skin is dark and her hair is long. She watches Leonard greet her before replying carefully in turn.

Captain Pike doesn’t know sign language, so Lt. Commander Uhura ends up translating for him as he greets Leonard. He likes the way she signs, and he wonders if there’s Vulcan sign language or if they just get taught Standard like the kids on Earth. He’ll have to ask her sometime, but he’s got to get to the medbay and meet his head nurse and translator.

*

Life aboard the  _ Enterprise _ is not exactly what Leonard was expecting, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. Now if Jim would only stop acting like he has to prove himself to Pike- then things might be a little smoother sailing. 

Christine Chapel is an excellent head nurse, fully capable of performing all of Leonard’s responsibilities- except for the paperwork. She refuses to touch that. He wonders why, as he signs his fourteenth form for the morning, paperwork is still called that when they stopped using trees to record their information a long time ago. Starships don’t even bother with holosheets because they take up too much space.

It doesn’t matter really, but it makes Leonard slightly bitter that paperwork is called something it shouldn’t be. The stacks of padds he has to read carefully don’t diminish as they start encountering new civilizations or ferrying diplomats.

He has time to paint now, after his sleepless years at the Academy. He feels odd about it, as if he should have grown out of his coping mechanism by now, so he doesn’t show Jim his paintings anymore. It’s difficult to even get the paper for it out here, but Leonard always slips off every time they’re at a starbase and finds some. The paints are even harder to find, but he’s discovered the chief of engineering is a tinkerer. Scott programmed a replicator for Leonard, for which Leonard gave him a massage, because his back apparently gets messed up crawling through Jeffries tubes every day.

Leonard always means to talk to Lt. Commander Uhura, because he does have things he wants to ask her- namely about Vulcan sign language- but he never manages to catch her at a good time, so he goes months without speaking a word to her. There’s no real reason for them to talk anyways. Their jobs don’t really have overlap, even though Leonard hangs out on the bridge sometimes to talk to Jim and Uhura  _ is _ right there.

It’s only when they have an altercation with some Romulans that he gets the chance to speak to the austere woman. Uhura was wounded while trying to translate- a phaser to her left shoulder. Her uniform is black where green blood has seeped through and her face is ashen. 

Leonard moves quickly. He helps her to a bed before he realizes what he is about to do. He’s never actually treated a Vulcan before, despite studying about them as much as their secretive ways will allow. 

“Do I have permission to cut your uniform open?” he signs, carefully trying to observe the modesty rules Vulcans seem to hold so dear.

Uhura can’t move her wounded arm without hissing, so she signs a little poorly with her right arm that Leonard can proceed. He hadn’t noticed she was left-handed before. 

The lieutenant commander’s wound is deeper than he expected, and the fibers of her uniform are burnt into one of her arteries. It takes Leonard an hour before he can replicate her skin. He draws the curtain and asks her what size she wears so he can get her a replacement uniform from stores.

She attempts to use her left arm to answer, but Leonard stops her. “You need to rest it for a couple of hours to let the regens do their work,” he signs quickly, his brow furrowing.

Uhura gives him a look that he can’t interpret and signs that she’s a small with her right hand.

Leonard feels odd when he realizes Uhura won’t be able to change on her own. He doesn’t want to look at someone without their consent, and he’s not particularly interested in offending Uhura, who he’s heard has a long arm on this ship.

She manages to get her right arm out fine but can’t get her undershirt over her head alright, so Leonard grabs it and carefully tries to avoid touching skin. He fails, because of course he would. His index finger grazes Uhura’s temple and he gets a brief flash of two hands- one tanned and large and what seemed like it was her own. It was too quick for him to catch anything else, and he feels guilty for even seeing what he did. 

She mouths something that he can’t figure out as he’s drawing her undershirt down her injured arm. Leonard tries not to think about it, because it’s probably Vulcan and he couldn’t lipread that anyways. Her undershirt is encrusted with blood and likely isn’t worth washing. He tosses it in the garbage chute.

When he turns back, Uhura is trying to grab her new undershirt and uniform from the table. Leonard stomps his foot, knowing that the sound will get her to look at him. He is not looking at her in her bra, because he’s pretty damn sure that mind link goes both ways and that is  _ not _ happening.

“You can’t just do that,” he signs, his hands flying fast and angry. “You’ll undo all the work I just did. Stubborn Vulcan.”

Uhura doesn’t reply. She just lets Leonard put her undershirt and uniform on again. He does touch her skin again, multiple times, because it’s unavoidable. He feels nothing any of those times. All he can think is that he must have imagined that flash of a hand wrapped around hers.

She leaves after telling him thank you, and Leonard is left with more paperwork.

*

He asks Jim if he knows anything about Vulcan telepathy and mental shielding two days later. Jim acts strangely nonchalant, but admits he does.

“Vulcans are trained in mental shielding from a very young age. Touch telepathy does go both ways, but it’s nearly impossible to see or feel anything if you accidentally make skin contact.” Jim finishes signing, looking sheepish as his hands drop.

Leonard squints. “Jim,” his hands fly warningly, “What did you do?”

Jim isn’t looking at him when he signs, “Commander Spock.”

It takes Leonard a minute to understand and then he’s laying into Jim for his absolute stupidity. 

“A commanding officer, Jim- you fucked a commanding officer who has direct jurisdiction over you! The first officer, Jim. I cannot believe- Of all the stupid things to do! He could lose his job! You could lose your job! I do not have time to deal with this. You should have fucking kept it in your pants. The only way this could be worse is if he were the captain or there’s video evidence of this.”

The look Jim has on his face makes Leonard wish he was back in the hospital in Georgia, hands in someone’s guts.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he signs, and suppresses the urge to punch Jim’s stupidly beautiful face. “We’re going to Captain Pike right now and telling him about this. Get your Vulcan lover up here too.”

Leonard used to feel slightly intimidated by Spock, but as of right now, he just feels irritated. The commander is standing a conspicuous foot away from Jim, his hands behind his back. The room just gets more tense when Uhura has to come in to translate for Leonard. 

Captain Pike starts by asking what the hell is going on, and Leonard can’t even smile at the way Uhura’s dainty hands frame the word  _ hell _ because he’s too busy trying to figure out if his best friend is getting kicked out of Starfleet for doing something- Jim tried to give details and Leonard cut him off- in the turbolift- the main shaft that goes to the bridge- the  _ only _ turbolift that has a camera in it.

Uhura manages to keep a straight face until Jim admits there’s video footage and then her eyebrows nearly hit her hairline. Her hands don’t pause, though, so Leonard gives her credit. He only has to be in the room because he’s the one that the two idiots- he doesn’t care that Commander Spock is a Vulcan and technically has a larger brain than humans, he wasn’t fucking using it when whatever happened with Jim- should have filed paperwork with if their relationship was aboveboard.

Captain Pike looks like he would rather be anywhere else the entire time. Leonard strongly relates.

Pike cares enough about Jim to not report the situation, but he does temporarily decommission Jim until he can figure out where to put him.

“And file your damn paperwork with McCoy,” Pike grunts. “I'll make sure that video footage is erased so long as you're responsible.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Commander Spock says. After Uhura translates, he turns to Leonard. “I apologize for the inconvenience.” His hands are almost curt as he signs. “My shift ends in two hours.”

Jim's shoulders drop in a sigh. “Spock means he'll be by then to sign forms. I'll be by then too.”

“Well then, why didn't he just say that?”

Uhura watches their hands fly with something akin to amusement on her face. Captain Pike says something that Leonard thinks might be “What are they saying?” because he's seen it so often. He's been left out of so many conversations he can't feel terrible for this. Besides, it's not like anything important is happening- just Spock insisting that it's unimportant to state the obvious and Leonard trying to bow out of the conversation because he has better things to be doing.

*

Uhura sits down across from Leonard at dinner, that same hint of a smile on her face. “Hello, Dr. McCoy,” she signs. “I trust this evening finds you well.”

“As well as I can be after dealing with Jim and Commander Spock this afternoon.”

“They did file the appropriate paperwork?”

“Yes, after having some strange non-argument that I couldn't really catch.” Leonard stirs his soup slowly. He doesn't really understand why Uhura is here. He would think she wanted nothing to do with him after being pulled into an already awkward situation.

“Commander Spock seems to take after his father,” Uhura signs, before fixing Leonard with an indecipherable look.

Leonard abandons his soup spoon. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“You know of Ambassador Sarek and Lady Amanda Grayson?” Uhura's face is still unreadable. He's a little unnerved by her lack of facial expression, something he relies on heavily.

“Of course I do. First high-profile interracial marriage. I remember all the fuss about Vulcan-human compatibility.”

“Commander Spock is their son.”

Leonard doesn't even try to hide his surprise. “So Commander Spock takes after his father both physically and romantically- chasing after humans instead of Vulcans.”

Uhura nods curtly.

“Are you also of half-human ancestry? Does that explain your name?” He knows it's rude to pry, especially in Vulcan culture, but he's curious and the conversation is already started.

Her hands fly fast to meet his question. “I am fully Vulcan. My name is a source of great interest among your people, but it does not matter. My given name is a private matter for me, so I chose a last name that would fit if I did have human ancestry.”

“Uhura was an attempt to blend in?” Leonard has a difficult time believing that anyone has ever mistaken the lieutenant commander for human, even if she covers her ears and conceals the slant of her brows. She has such an unearthly beauty about her that it's difficult to focus anywhere else when she’s in a room. “I'm not sure you could ever blend in,” he signs, and then drops his hands to his lap quickly. It perhaps came across as an insult, but it was more of a compliment than he ever meant to give.

Uhura just inclines her head though, whether in acceptance of his compliment, or for some other reason- he does not know.

That is the end of their conversation, it seems, because Uhura finishes her food and leaves. Leonard is left to stare at his cold soup and wonder exactly what the hell is going on.

*

The next meal, Uhura is nowhere to be found, so Leonard sits with Jim and by extension, Commander Spock.

“You are Jim's best friend,” the commander signs. Leonard feels certain the more he watches Jim's boyfriend sign that there is a Vulcan sign language. Commander Spock's hands just form words too strangely for it to be anything but an accent. Uhura must have more practice and therefore less of one.

“I am,” Leonard replies. “What about it?”

“You may refer to me by my name.”

“Thank you for the honor.” Leonard feels like Jim thinks he's being sarcastic, and he might be- a little- but he is aware that it means something for a superior officer- a Vulcan, no less- to offer this gesture of friendship. “Are you friends with Lt. Commander Uhura?”

Spock tilts his head slightly as he says yes. “Is there a reason you wish to know of my acquaintance with Lt. Commander Uhura, Leonard?”

“I was just curious, that's all.”

Jim gives Leonard an odd look, but Leonard refuses to respond.

*

Leonard dreams of getting stuck on a desert planet with Uhura that night.

_ It's strange, how calm she remains under pressure. He shouldn't expect any less of a Vulcan. He knows how much control they have- or at least what the textbooks say on their level of control over emotions. But it's still unnerving that she doesn't blink while she searches for water around the rock they took shelter from the sun behind. _

_ Her tricorder displays only sand beetles. Leonard scoffs. She turns to look at him to see what he has to say. _

“ _ We're going to die here,” he says. He's not even being pessimistic. There's just no way they can get out of this situation. He can't remember how they even got here, but he knows that no one is coming for them. _

“ _ No,” Uhura signs. “There is a 2.347% chance we will make it out alive. I am not certain we will die despite the statistics. You are the human. You are the one who is predisposed to be optimistic.” _

_ Leonard laughs, his shoulders shaking as he almost cries from hysteria. His lips are chapped, and his mouth barely feels like he has enough saliva to swallow, but he manages to lose a single tear. It dries on his skin within seconds. _

“ _ Anyone who ever said that all humans are optimistic has never met me. And you have a higher chance of survival because you're from a desert planet, so you can say that and believe it.” His hands move slowly, his movements sluggish. The heat has long since affected his ability to think properly, but Leonard Horatio McCoy will be sarcastic until the day he dies. _

_ Uhura comes and sits next to him. The rock barely does anything to cover them. There's only a hint of a shadow, but it's something. _

“ _ Lifelong bitterness can lead to health issues,” she signs. Her movements are quicker than his. The heat doesn't get to her the same way it does to him, which Leonard thinks is stupid. No one should be in a hundred degrees Fahrenheit weather and be without sweat. _

“ _ Like health issues matter right now.” _

_ Uhura is closer to Leonard than they have ever been before. He's not sure exactly what to do with himself besides wait for death, but he doubly doesn't know what he's going to do if- for some unknown reason- she actually touches him. Not like she will. There's no reason for her to do so, but the thought flashes across Leonard's head. _

_ He's glad he can't hear the wind, because it's strong enough to whip grains of sand into every crevice of his body. It seems to be bothering Uhura. Leonard remembers that page 300 of his xenobiology textbook said that Vulcan hearing is 2.5 times more acute than human hearing. He doesn't know why he remembers this so exactly. _

_ Uhura looks at him, her face inscrutable. _

“ _ Do you ever smile?” They're going to die, there's no harm in asking stupid questions. _

_ Uhura must hold a similar sentiment, no matter her talk, because she flashes her teeth briefly. Leonard is so surprised that he can't respond for a couple of seconds. _

_ She beats him to the punch. “That is an impolite question, Dr. McCoy.” _

“ _ We're going to die. There's no reason to be polite.” _

“ _ That is faulty logic.” _

“ _ You think I've ever given a shit about logic?” Leonard raises an eyebrow. He's glad that they aren't speaking with their mouths. He doesn't think he could handle the loss of moisture from opening his mouth so often. _

_ She gives her normal smile now, that slight upturn of her mouth that he misses if he doesn't look close enough. “I am aware humans do not place the same value on logic as Vulcans. However, you are a man of medicine.” _

_ Leonard wishes that Vulcans finished their thoughts instead of leaving things unsaid that it would be no trouble to say. “I've read thousands of words on how to treat illnesses and heal the wounded,” he signs. He's certain he's going to pass out soon with how tired his arms feel. “But they have failed me. My intuition never has.” _

_ He thinks that Vulcans must take classes in how to raise their eyebrows. It's practically the only visible sign of emotion they ever show. _

“ _ You're what they call old-fashioned.” Uhura is close still, close enough Leonard might be uncomfortable if he didn't want her to be even closer. _

“ _ You can call me that. I call myself a damn good doctor.” _

“ _ You are unwell,” Uhura signs, her left hand darting out to grab her tricorder the moment she’s finished signing. She scans him, her sweatless brow furrowing slightly. “Your temperature has been elevated for some time now. Why did you not inform me?” _

“ _ It's useless. Why does the heat making me sick matter? I'm going to fucking die,  _ sir. _ ” The “sir” is cutting and unnecessary, but Leonard just wants to be left alone right now. Uhura is bothering him. She's too close and too far away all at once. Her strange optimism is making him more irritable than he normally would be, and his attraction to her that he does not speak of is making it even worse. They are alone and going to die on this god-forsaken place, and he had never planned on saying a single word about her beauty, but the heat and sand might drag those words from his lips. _

_ He has watched her for so long- ached to touch her or even just to talk with her long into the night. He wants to know her name so he can whisper it into her skin. He wants to hold her hand as they skim past stars. He wants to fall in love with her, to push his feelings over the edge of the waterfall and plunge into the depths of the ocean if it means she will smile at him. _

_ His feelings frighten him. Jocelyn should have been enough to scare him away from love for the rest of his life. It scares him, being alone and so close to Uhura like this. He hopes he passes out so he doesn't say anything stupid before he dies. _

_ Uhura stares at him. “It is unnecessary to call me sir when we are the same rank.” She says nothing of the fact that the situation doesn't call for it either. _

“ _ Neither of us have any hypos left. There's no reason to say or do anything right now.” Leonard's vision is starting to blur, and he's not entirely sure his words are clear. _

_ Uhura slaps his cheek, hard. The pain cuts through the fog in his brain and if Leonard used his mouth as often as most humans, he's certain a string of swear words would be falling out. He can't quite get his hands to respond, though, so he can't muster an equivalent. _

_ When he's finally certain his hands work properly, he gives Uhura an angry look. “What the fuck was that for?” _

“ _ You are not going to die here.” Her hands are firm and emphatic. _

“ _ You're going to stop death?” Leonard dares Uhura to reply, his eyes flashing. _

_ Her hand reaches slowly out. He watches her slow movement with anticipation and hesitation all at once. When her fingers wrap around his wrist, he lets out a sigh. Her skin is hot, but it feels warm compared to his sunsick body. He can't feel a single thing, so her shields must still be up. _

“ _ Why?” Leonard signs with his free hand.  _ Why are you touching me? Why are so insistent on saving me? Why does it matter if I'm conscious?

_ Uhura just leans in close- close enough he can see her eyelashes. She enunciates her words so he can lip read- he can't remember telling her that he's pretty damn good at lip reading, but she seems to know anyways. _

“ _ Because I care.” _

_ Leonard's breathing is already short, but he swears his ability to intake oxygen becomes genuinely impaired in this moment. She kisses him and slides into his mind in one movement, slow and sweet and everything he has dreamed of. _

Are you alright? _ She does not venture anywhere except the front of his brain, focusing only on this experience- the catch of his chapped lips against her soft ones, the rasp of his stubble against her smooth skin. _

_ It takes him a moment longer of exploring her mouth before he thinks,  _ You don't know how long I have dreamed of this. And here we are, about to die.

_ She still doesn't believe they are going to die. Leonard can't figure it out, but he isn't going prodding into her brain. His hand reaches up to touch her torso and she slides it to her breast. _

Leonard wakes up in a sweat, his sheets tangled around his legs and his breathing heavy. He lies there in the dark of his quarters, half-hard and feeling desperate to escape the fact that he just had a dream about Uhura. He doesn't need this shit, not after he's been hurt. The image of her lips coming to meet his flashes across his brain and he thumps his bed in protest.

Leonard doesn't meet Uhura’s eyes the next day when she passes him in the corridor. 

He has the same dream every night that week, waking up in a sweat at the same part every time. Jim notices that his best friend is off, but Leonard refuses to say anything besides that he's been having some weird dreams.

“You sure?” Jim’s forehead creases as he asks, his hands dropping uselessly to his sides when he’s done.

Leonard isn’t, but he nods anyways. He’s not telling Jim that he’s been dreaming about kissing Lt. Commander Uhura. He’s not telling anyone jack shit. There’s no point in it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will be on Mondays probably, but I really wanted to post the first chapter tonight, so take this gift and run with it.


	2. Chapter 2

“Good morning, Bones!” Jim looks cheerful as he signs the exclamation point.

Leonard wants to shove Jim’s exclamation point up his ass. He says as much. Jim just laughs and slings his arm around Leonard’s shoulder. Leonard removes it and takes a sip of his coffee. He can sign piss off with one hand.

Jim just laughs some more and pulls him to a table. “You’ll never guess what Spock did last night,” he starts, but Leonard is walking the moment he hears the word Spock. He would rather skip breakfast than watch Jim explain exactly what they did in bed.

Jim tries to message Leonard while he’s working.  He ignores his friend’s messages, because they tend to start with Spock. He finally snaps at lunchtime

_Jim, if you don’t desist, I’m going to block your ID number. I care about you and I’m glad you’re happy, but I don’t want to know a single detail of your sex life._

Jim seems to get the picture, because he doesn’t send any more messages for the rest of the day.

*

Leonard still can’t quite look Uhura in the eye, and he still hasn’t asked her about Vulcan sign language. It takes him a week before the stupid dream stops and he realizes that he could just ask Spock, since they’ve been shoved together by Jim.

Spock nods when Leonard asks him. “There is a sign language for all three dialects of Vulcan, even though one of them is just as unused as the dialect. Lt. Commander Uhura knows them all. I only know Golic Vulcan sign language. She has offered to teach me High Vulcan, but I rarely have any occasion to use it, and therefore learning it would not be a valuable use of my time.”

“You know you have an accent,” Leonard signs, a smile playing across his face. He’s curious if this will get a rise out of Spock.

Spock pauses a moment before replying. Leonard swears his hands are more careful when he replies. “Explain.”

“You form SSL signs like you never use them. They’re clunky and stiff. Sign language is supposed to be fluid, like water or some poetic shit.”

Leonard thinks that Spock raises his eyebrows too damn much.

“I have not had much reason to use SSL,” Spock signs. “I admit that I have room for improvement.”

Leonard smirks. “There’s something you aren’t good at.” He’s watched Spock for awhile now and heard enough from Jim to know that Spock plays ten instruments, speaks twenty-four languages, and is in ridiculously good shape.

Again, with that damn eyebrow. Leonard rolls his eyes and walks away.

*

Leonard talks to Uhura for the first time in months when Captain Pike insists that a doctor accompany them on an away mission. Leonard doesn’t see the point, but he’s not about to challenge a direct order, so he grumbles and gets his tricorder.

Jim is ecstatic, and slaps Leonard’s back harder than necessary. Leonard flinches and glares at his best friend.

“You should stop doing that,” he signs.

Jim smirks and shakes his head. “Shut up,” he signs, his face flashing his joy as his hand flies to his mouth.

Uhura turns her gaze away when Leonard looks at her. Her hair is in its usual tight ponytail, emphasizing the slant of her brows and her pointed ears. He wonders what her hair looks like down, if her face looks less alien without her scalp pulled back. It’s a foolish thought that he should dismiss more quickly than he actually does.

Pike says something to Jim that Leonard doesn’t catch, but Jim turns to him and signs that Leonard should have his phaser ready. He learns later that the whole reason Pike insisted on him coming is because of possible hostiles. He’s not thinking about that, though, when Uhura’s ponytail is in front of him on the transporter pad.

The natives are bright red and are not humanoid. Leonard spends the full thirty seconds he has to look at them- before they start throwing projectiles- trying to figure out exactly where their mouths are. It’s the moment he turns to run that he sees what appears to be the head open wide, revealing four rows of razor sharp teeth. He grabs wildly at Jim, making sure his best friend is still moving forward as they race through the yellow underbrush. Pike is just ahead, and Uhura brings up the rear.

Leonard nearly stops short when they come across a river, but realizes it’s in their best interest to attempt to cross it. It’s slow moving, the sluggish water the color of clay. Pike’s already wading across when Uhura splashes in beside Leonard. Jim’s hand is steady on Leonard’s shoulder as the water laps higher. It never reaches higher than Leonard’s waist, but Uhura is significantly shorter than her crewmates, and has to fight greater resistance.

He almost suggests swimming before realizing that she likely doesn’t even know how, what with being raised on a desert planet that sees rain twice a year. Instead, he grabs her arm and tugs her behind him. Uhura seems to understand what he’s doing, and pushes up close against his torso, letting him cut some of the drag.

Leonard can’t hear the aliens coming closer, but Uhura can, and he can feel the press of her against his back suddenly more urgent. They make it out of the river before the aliens attempt to cross it, but Pike and Jim have already started running ahead to the closest stand of trees. None of them have any clue whether those things can climb trees, but there aren’t any caves nearby, and even if there were, they don’t know whether that’s where they nest, so the trees are their best bet.

Leonard climbs, sap encrusted in his uniform before he’s a third of the way up his tree. Uhura is behind him, somehow looking unruffled despite her clay-soaked uniform covered in sap and twigs. Jim is in his own tree with Pike, two trees over from them. Leonard settles in a branch decently high up and resolves to flat out refuse the next away mission, no matter the possible charge of insubordination that could go on his record.

Uhura picks a branch just next to him and raises her eyebrow at him. She frees her hands, leaning against the trunk, and asks him if he’s uninjured. There’s clay underneath her nails, and Leonard wonders why she keeps them longer if there’s no practical reason to do so.

“I’m fine,” he signs back. He leans to his right to stare back across the river. The creatures are starting to swim across the river, their terrifying mouths the only thing visible in the churning water. Leonard quickly shifts to see if Captain Pike is comming the _Enterprise_ so they can be beamed up. He appears to be, so he turns back to Uhura.

He wonders if he’s ever going to get used to her beauty. Her delicate features are definitively alien, but it just adds to her allure. Leonard remembers his dream and blushes. The tree shudders as one of the creatures slams into it, breaking him out of his reverie.

“Fuck,” he mouths, using his hands to steady himself. He swears that Uhura is smiling ever so slightly when he glances up at her.

It’s a breathless two minutes of bracing themselves against their tree trunks as the creatures slam into them before Lt. Commander Scott beams them up. The first thing Leonard does after decontamination is stagger to sickbay and stab himself with a hypo to stop the shaking. His captain, friend, and crewmate all only have minor scrapes that are easily addressed.

Spock apparently wants to beam down again and observe the creatures further, but Jim manages to dissuade him before Leonard learns about it.

Uhura sits through her treatment quietly, thanking Leonard before she leaves. He realizes later that evening as he does paperwork, that he never asked her about her nails. It’s not worth it, he decides. Running for their lives was enough for the day, and he wants some damn sleep, anyways.

He dreams of her that night, but it’s not the same dream that plagued him previously.

_Leonard is in the medbay. It’s late, and there’s only one nurse on staff, currently napping in one of the beds. He would normally protest, but they’ve all been working around the clock lately due to inspections at Yorktown tomorrow. He’s doing paperwork, and would rather be sleeping, but there’s nothing particularly unusual about this._

_He stands up and stretches, his back cracking. He needs to piss, but that’s just due to the amount of coffee he’s been consuming._

_When Leonard comes back from the toilet, Uhura is sitting in his chair. His mouth is instantly dry. She’s not in her uniform, but a high-necked dark green shirt and soft pants, her hair still in a ponytail._

_“Can I help you?” He signs, his hands feeling leaden, as if the late hour has just now settled upon him._

_Uhura just stands up, that barely-there smile playing across her lips. She walks around his desk and to the door, turning to beckon him to follow her._

_Leonard hesitates before he does, his boots squeaking slightly as they pass the passed out ensign. Uhura has bare feet and the only noise she makes is the rustle of her clothes._

_He wants to know what that fabric feels like. His fingers curl into his palms with the itch to reach out and touch her._

_Uhura doesn’t look back, just gets on the turbolift in the half-light corridors of beta shift. Leonard follows her. He stares at her the twenty seconds they’re in the ‘lift together, her eyelashes flashing blue._

_They get off on the observation deck, and Leonard almost runs. He’s only been down here once with Jim, for five minutes. He doesn’t know exactly how he feels about staring out at their warp trail or the stars blurring past them. He doesn’t like to dwell on it too much._

_Uhura turns to look at him now, holding out her hand. Again, Leonard hesitates. The look she gives him is soft, devoid of all the impassiveness he is now familiar with. It’s enough to make him grasp her hand._

_He knows this is a kiss by her standards, but her fingers do not slide across his. She just holds his hand and stares out the window. Leonard focuses on the feeling of her soft hand dwarfed in his before his eyes drift back to her face._

He wakes up with empty hands, feeling restless. He rolls over and checks his clock. It’s 0456.

Leonard gets up and goes for a run, expecting the gym to be empty at this hour. Except Uhura is there, because the universe hates him, and he can’t just be alone with his stupid brain at this ungodly hour. He grumbles to himself and gets on the furthest treadmill from the lieutenant commander.

He can still see her from the corner of his eye once he starts running, but he wants to forget, so he stares at the wall that’s plastered with Starfleet posters. It takes him ten minutes before he realizes that the biggest poster has Uhura’s face on it. He curses her photogenic face and status as one of the few Vulcans in Starfleet, and decides to stare at the treadmill screen.

Leonard is glad that he can’t hear, because otherwise he would notice when Uhura leaves. He’s thankful to just notice that her gray Starfleet issue workout gear has disappeared from his vision half an hour in.

He runs for a full hour, slowing to a jog near the end of it. He’s in good shape, but he pushes himself farther than he normally would. None of his rumination gets him anywhere, though.

These damn dreams don’t appear to be leaving him alone. Leonard wonders if befriending Uhura is the key to get his brain to calm down, settle into a routine of platonic relationship. The more rational part of his brain knows that this is a faulty idea, but he’s always been a man who listened to his heart.

He’s just never fallen for anyone unattainable. And Lt. Commander Uhura is unattainable. She’s a Vulcan for one, who appears to have some thoughts on Vulcan-human relations that may or may not be positive, depending on how he takes their strange conversation about Spock and his father. Another point against him is how messy his divorce was and how he doesn’t believe that a romantic relationship even now will be feasible. Leonard also knows that Vulcans do a childhood engagement thing, and despite Spock breaking off his, he has no evidence that Uhura is as rebellious against her species’ customs. And last, but certainly not least, he never has a damn clue what she’s thinking except for that sometimes-maybe smile.

Leonard hates this. He fucking hates every minute of this- _thing._ He’s been on the _Enterprise_ six months and his attraction to Uhura isn’t lessening. The fucking dreams seem to be increasing, if anything. Everything about his feelings feels useless and pointless.

He still has an hour before he should eat breakfast, so he goes back to his quarters and showers. He sits in his towel at his desk and stares at his watercolors for five minutes before Uhura’s clay-stained nails surface in his head.

Jim comms him at exactly 0700 about some sex injury and Leonard is forced to abandon his painting that’s only two-thirds done.

Jim pulled a muscle in his back and nearly gave himself a concussion banging his head on his bunk. Leonard purposefully doesn’t look at Jim’s hands as he patches his best friend up.

“You idiot,” he signs, after Jim is better. “Safe sex doesn’t just mean condoms. Be fucking careful.”

Jim just smiles that smile that makes Leonard want to knock his teeth in. “You’re telling me you never got injured having sex, Bones?”

Leonard doesn’t want to think about having sex. There was only fumbling with Scott in the locker room before Jocelyn, and he wishes he could erase Jocelyn from his memory. That leaves Uhura, who he’s barely touched- maybe he’s touched her more than he ever thought possible. He shakes his head.

“I’m not discussing my sex life with you,” he signs. “Now get out of my medbay. I want breakfast.”

Something- the worst part of his judgement- possesses Leonard to sit across from Uhura at breakfast. She glances up at him briefly before returning to her padd.

He feels awkward and stupid for doing this. He’s about to get up and go sit with Jim and Spock when Uhura powers off her padd and puts down her spoon.

“I was reading the news,” she signs, and if Leonard didn’t know better, he would think she was apologizing. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Her eyebrows rise expectantly when he doesn’t reply immediately.

“I was wondering if you would teach me Vulcan sign language,” Leonard finally signs. It’s not what he was planning on saying, but if he wanted to befriend her or just spend more time in her company, he figures that it was as good as anything. He does actually want to learn, but he had no desire for her to teach him.

They’re docking at Yorktown at 0920 this morning, so it’s not like Uhura can even do anything with this information. While the ship is getting inspected and upgraded, as well as receiving any necessary repairs, the entire crew has four days to themselves. Leonard highly doubts that Uhura wishes to spend her free time with him, and he probably came across as desperate and weird.

He signs, “Not now of course,” at the same moment that Uhura signs, “I will have no duties while we are at Yorktown.”

Leonard _blushes._ He stares at his hands and doesn’t look up for perhaps too long. When he finally formulates words, he wishes the flush on his cheeks has dissipated more than it has.

“I’m free,” he signs. He can’t meet her eyes, just watches her delicate brown hands against the backdrop of her red uniform.

“I will find you once we dock, then.” Leonard finally brings himself to look at her face. She appears impassive as she signs, “Good morning,” and picks up her tray.

Leonard wants to sink into the floor the moment she leaves. He feels like he made a complete fool of himself. He hates these fucking dreams.

*

Uhura is waiting for him when he disembarks. He changes into civilian clothes, even though he wouldn’t stick out on a starbase in his uniform. Leonard is just attempting to be comfortable in some way shape or form, considering he feels like he put his foot in it.

The reality of the matter is that Uhura is likely clueless about his dreams and hasn’t even considered the thought of being with him romantically or sexually. Leonard needs to grow the fuck up and just actually learn Vulcan sign language.

They go to a cafeteria a good distance from the shipyards, where it’s quieter. Not that it matters to Leonard, but Uhura’s sensitive hearing will be less bombarded. She gets Vulcan spice tea, and Leonard gets his usual coffee.

They sit at a table in the back. Leonard almost jumps a mile when Uhura’s knee brushes against his underneath the small table.

“They should make these damn things bigger,” he signs, trying to act like he’s not revolted by the thought of touching her. He wonders if the feeling of idiocy lingering above his shoulders is going to increase every second he spends in Uhura’s presence until he becomes a fumbling fool who can’t even sign.

She just raises her damn eyebrows. Leonard kind of wants to scream.

“We’ll start with the Golic alphabet,” Uhura signs.

He tries to put aside the riot in his brain and focus on the letters she forms. The alphabet is starkly different from SSL, and Leonard spends two hours before he gets most of it down.

Uhura insists they stop, citing his need as a human “to take rests after short periods of strenuous mental activity.”

Leonard rolls his eyes. “You call two hours short?”

“I regularly spend six hours in meditation.” Her hands fly, quick and elegant as she signs. She pauses for a moment before spell signing in Vulcan. “Two hours is short.”

He laughs and spell signs back, “If you insist.”

Uhura stands up. “I assume the same time tomorrow will suffice?”

Leonard shoves his chair back before replying. It’s weird to look down at a woman who carries herself so regally, and he almost regrets his movement to stand.

“Same place,” he confirms.

*

His dream is different again tonight, as if his increased time with Uhura is giving his brain more to work with.

_The sand glows blue in the moonlight, the water rippling gently. Leonard wades in, his toes gripping the sand in the warm water. He doesn’t know what planet this is, but there are three slivers of light in the sky, so it’s not Earth._

_The water is soothing on his skin and muscles, and he floats for what might be an hour, just resting in peace._

_He doesn’t even have time to breathe before Uhura appears out of nowhere, this time in a white dress. She doesn’t seem bothered by it getting wet, nor does Leonard feel startled. It’s almost as if he was expecting her._

_She leans down to kiss him, her left hand finding his in the water, and her warm mouth closing over his._

_He ends up kneeling in the water, his right hand wrapped around her jaw and his left pulling her closer to him. Uhura just kisses him back, her tongue sliding against his as her joy slides down his chest._

Leonard stumbles to his monitor the moment he wakes up. He wants to know if the planet he was dreaming about is even real. Three moons does narrow his search down significantly, so it only takes him twenty minutes.

Oonia, the fifth planet from its sun in the Orias system, orbits a trinary star and has phosphorescent beaches. The three photos he can find appear to match the place in his dream, so he’s left to wonder why the hell he was dreaming about a planet he’s never been to, in a situation he’s never been in. He shoves his chair away from his desk and stares at his still unfinished painting of Uhura’s hands for far too long.

This is all bullshit. All of it.

It’s 0256, and Leonard isn’t sleepy in the least. He grabs his watercolors and paper and pads down the corridor to the turbolift in his boxers. The _Enterprise_ is empty. He’s not even really supposed to be on here right now, but he didn’t feel like staying at the hotel with the rest of the crew, and it’s not like workers are going to be mad at him so long as they don’t know he’s here. Leonard is going to be out of here before 0800, when the ship will be crawling with workers.

He goes to the observation deck, his dream the other night fresh in his mind. He doesn’t feel the same trepidation he felt in his dream, his hands steady as he walks to a seat facing outwards.

He’s been painting Uhura standing out looking at the stars for some indeterminate amount of time before Jim appears suddenly. Leonard smears a line of paint, a warp trail turned squiggly.

Leonard very rarely uses his voice, preferring to let his hands do the talking, but he practically shouts “Fuck!” Jim winces and leans away. Jim’s more dressed than him, with a tshirt on at least.

“Sorry,” he signs. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here either. What are you painting?”

Leonard sighs and carefully dips his brush in blue again. He moves his hand so Jim can see, feeling like words are inadequate to describe the mess of his emotions.

Jim’s eyebrows rise while he processes exactly what his best friend painting the Vulcan comm chief in the dark hours of the morning means.

“I never would have guessed,” he signs finally. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“What is there to talk about?” Leonard gestures almost violently. “It’s not like your magical love story, where you just fucked your Vulcan and things worked out great. She doesn’t know, and you had better keep your damn mouth shut. I don’t need you interfering.”

Jim raises his hands placatingly. “I’m just offering my ear. I swear on my life, Bones.”

Leonard sighs again. “I’ve been dreaming about her. I hate my brain. Anyways, she’s teaching me Vulcan sign language and I think I’m going to die from staring at her hands for too long.”

Jim tilts his head. “Is she the first person you’ve even looked at since Jocelyn?”

Leonard nods before bending his head to fix the crooked line. When he looks up again, Jim is giving him an unfathomable look.

“That’s…” Jim’s hands pause as he searches for the right words. “That’s a lot. For her to be the first since Jocelyn. And for her to be Vulcan. Do you know anything about her bondmate situation?”

Leonard shakes his head.

“I’m sorry, Bones,” Jim signs, and his hands fall in his lap. He brightens after a minute. “Do you want me to ask Spock? He probably knows.”

Leonard doesn’t know what he wants right now. His lack of sleep is catching up to him and the world feels fuzzy around the edges. He starts to clean up his paint, shrugging.

Jim walks him back to his quarters, his bare feet matching Leonard’s. Leonard doesn’t have time to think about Uhura’s hands on his desk, and Jim’s snatched it up before he can.

“Good lord,” Jim signs, after a minute’s study. “You’re in deep.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Leonard replies. “Now leave me to sleep.” He finishes the sign and drags his hand over his face for real this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all have a lovely Halloween!! Also- for nanowrimo, I'm going to be finishing my wips and writing 50k in the process, so there will probably be nothing besides this published in the month of November. Come December though...
> 
> Edit: I forgot to put this in the first time around, but in case you were wondering, [sign language accents are a real thing](http://io9.gizmodo.com/yes-sign-language-has-accents-1650818475).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There a very brief description of past physical abuse in this chapter, towards the end. If you feel uncomfortable reading and not knowing exactly what it is, please contact me on [tumblr](https://karikes.tumblr.com), and I will be happy help you out.

Leonard meets Uhura again in the morning. He swears she’s gotten somehow more beautiful than the last time he saw her.

They focus on family members and relations today after reviewing the alphabet. Leonard is enjoying this, no matter how strange it is to have an excuse to stare at Uhura for hours on end. 

“Thank you,” he spell signs in Vulcan at the end of their session. “I really do appreciate this.”

“You are welcome,” Uhura replies.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Leonard starts.

Uhura raises an eyebrow. 

“Is there a reason you keep your nails long?”

“Yes.”

“I mean, I haven’t met any other Vulcans who keep their nails long,” he signs. He feels like he’s digging himself into a hole right now, but he’s started, so he forges valiantly onwards. “I hope I’m not being rude. I was just curious.”

“If you would really like to know, it’s because I prefer them that way,” Uhura signs, finishing her words abruptly. “Good morning, Doctor McCoy.”

Leonard is left with some conflicting feelings. A Vulcan just admitted to his face that she has personal preferences concerning her appearance and it’s not all logical. He wonders how much of Spock’s nonsense is just what he wants to do and not actually logical or necessary. He asks Jim about it over lunch.

Jim laughs so hard he chokes on his soup. When he finally gathers himself, he tells Leonard that he’s not wrong. “Spock will only wear one brand of underwear, even when he’s on duty and should be wearing Starfleet issue underwear. He says it’s for comfort, but it’s just because he’s stubborn.”

Leonard smirks. “You going to tell me anymore of his secrets?”

Jim shakes his head. “Come on, Bones. I talked to Spock about Uhura for you. Don’t be greedy.”

“Oh?” Leonard feels almost sick with anxiety.

“Uhura has a bondmate, and they communicate regularly. Their relationship does not even appear to be strained. I’m sorry.”

Leonard’s stomach drops. “Okay,” he signs. “I should have guessed. It’s not like anything would have happened anyways.”

“Bones.” Jim looks at him like he did the day the divorce went through. “You should be kinder to yourself. If Uhura was interested, she would be lucky to have you.”

Leonard scoffs. “But she isn’t. She’s married, and I’m just the creep dreaming about her.”

“Leonard Horatio McCoy!” Jim is pissed now. “You are allowed to have a crush. You would never do anything to intentionally make Uhura uncomfortable, and you would never pursue a married woman. Yeah, it sucks, but you’ll get over it. I’m here if you need anything.”

It takes Leonard a moment to process the fact that Jim just used his proper name for the first time in fifteen years. “I know,” he finally signs. “Thank you for asking Spock.”

“No problem.”

“I guess I’ll just paint some more and learn Vulcan sign language to cope.”

“Painting does help you cope,” Jim signs, his face serious. “I can’t vouch for VSL, though.”

Leonard laughs. “Me neither.”

*

He realizes that he feels relief the next day he spends with Uhura, their hands flying as she teaches and he repeats the words. There’s no pressure anymore. He can have his stupid crush and never think about how he’s going to tell her, or worry that she’ll find out.

Leonard doesn’t think that Uhura should find out- it’s just that she’s married. There’s no damn way in hell she’s going to care about the irrationality of human emotion when she’s been hitched since childhood. Maybe it’s actually freeing to have a crush on a Vulcan. 

*

Two months later, Leonard is decently fluent in VSL, still dreaming about Uhura, and still desperately wishing his brain would shut the fuck up and move on. If Uhura suspects anything, she says nothing. 

There are no altercations that require him to patch her up, or stare at each other in alien trees for a couple of minutes before getting beamed up. Their conversations in VSL do not broach personal topics. Leonard does still sit with her at lunch a couple of times a week, but he doesn’t know if either of them would consider each other friends.

He catches Spock giving them odd looks sometimes. They do talk, him and Leonard, even if it usually looks like they’re arguing. Leonard enjoys their debate, and he knows Spock calls it invigorating, because Jim is always mouthing it sarcastically at them.

But the looks are just Vulcan curiosity, Leonard thinks. Spock always looks away the moment Leonard catches him. He and Uhura are friends, and he likely knows exactly what goes on in Uhura’s head when she and Leonard are together. Leonard isn’t going to ask him, though. If she were single, probably.

Uhura is married, though. Leonard is half-jealous and half-glad she has someone who loves her- whatever the Vulcan concept and execution of love means; if her arranged marriage actually brings her happiness.

Once Leonard would have scoffed at the idea of Vulcans having emotions, but he knows better now. Starfleet, for all its progress, still teaches a large number of xenophobic ideas to its students. He wants to rewrite a couple sections of his textbooks, if Vulcans wouldn’t consider it a breach of their privacy for more accurate information to be displayed. 

Now he wonders what emotions Uhura lets slip to the surface, which ones she savors in her free time. Jim’s told him Spock favors tenderness and selfishness more than the others. Leonard knows far more about their relationship than he ever planned on knowing, but Jim has been there for him since they were teenagers, and he’s not about to give the kid up now that he’s dating a Vulcan.

So he’s left here, sitting in the cafeteria, talking with Uhura in VSL and pretending that this isn’t harder than he fell for Jocelyn. Jocelyn was easier to fall for and harder to get over. Leonard doesn’t want to think about his ex-wife. The bruises have faded, but the memories haven’t.

“How long have you been in Starfleet?” Uhura signs again.

“Pardon,” Leonard signs, his hands hasty to make up for his mind wandering. “I started at the Academy five years ago. And you?”

“I started at the Academy eight years ago.” Uhura’s hands pause. “Do you require rest? You are distracted today.”

“I’m fine,” Leonard flashes back. The Vulcan language doesn’t exactly have slang, but he’s found a way around it, to Uhura’s irritation. He just doesn’t see the point in talking like he’s got a stick up his ass all the time.

“I am not certain that I agree with you.” Uhura’s eyebrows rise. “Do you need to have Dr. M’Benga inspect you?”

Leonard shakes his head. “I’ve been having odd dreams lately, that’s all.”

Uhura cocks her head. “Commander Spock tells me that his humanity allows him to dream occasionally. I have never personally experienced a dream. Would you be willing to describe one of them to me?”

Leonard shifts in his seat. “The dreams I’ve been having.... They’re personal.”

“You are uncomfortable with my request.”

“I’ll edit one for you,” he signs, not wanting Uhura to take her curiosity to Jim and have to deal with Jim’s dreams- which are  _ odd _ to say the least. The kid has an imagination on him.

Uhura learns forward ever so slightly.

Leonard switches to SSL, feeling like Standard is much better to describe a human experience.

“They tend to be immersive experiences, so there’s no real beginning or signal to start. This one- I’ve had it a lot so it’s pretty simple to recount. I’m on a beach on Oonia. The world is lit by its three moons, and the water and sand glow blue from the phosphorescent algae that live there. I feel perfectly calm as I step into the water. It’s warm and I wade deeper, eventually floating on my back. After some amount of time-” 

He suddenly thinks this was a terrible idea, even if he does edit it. But she’s looking at him expectantly, and he must forge onwards. “After some amount of time I can’t quantify, the person I am romantically interested in-  _ God, this sounds so awkward and stupid- _ appears in my vision. She leans down and kisses me.” Leonard breaks off and stares at his hands for a moment. “That’s it, really.”

Uhura’s head tilts to the right a fraction. “Is it common for humans to dream about the object of their affection?”

“Yes. I always have, and nearly everyone I know does.” It feels deceitful, to look Uhura in the eyes and talk about her without her knowing.

“Fascinating,” she signs, and Leonard can feel her genuine fascination in the movement of her hands, no matter how few micro expressions he can catch on her face. “Would you share another dream with me?”

“There’s one I haven’t had for a long time,” he starts, feeling more confident about this. “I’m on the swingset in my backyard, barefoot. My little sister is in the sandbox and I know my mom is about to come get us for dinner, but she hasn’t come yet, so I’m using every last moment of freedom I have. The breeze is in my hair and it’s a perfect day, one of maybe two or three a year in Louisiana. I just keep swinging, as high as I can, and I have no worries. Irina joins me at some point, her curls flying behind her as she swings. We just swing together. That’s all.”

“Is this dream based on a memory?”

“No. It could be, but I wasn’t an outside kid, so it’s actually unlikely.”

“Vulcan children are required to spend a certain amount of time outdoors every day,” Uhura signs. 

“I mean, I didn’t hate going outside. But I wasn’t forced to regularly, and I preferred being inside with books. You can’t tell me you don’t have a preference for staying inside. You’re on a damn starship. Unless-” Leonard gives her a sly look. “You fulfill your craving by visiting Sulu’s greenhouse.”

“I am not under the influence of any substance, as if nature could even be quantified as such. I do visit Lieutenant Sulu’s greenhouse on occasion. Time in nature can improve mental and physical health.” Uhura folds her hands when she’s done talking, as if she’s offended by what he’s said.

Leonard laughs. “You’re offended.”

“It is not possible for me to feel offense.” Uhura’s face is blank right now. “Thank you for sharing your dreams with me, Doctor McCoy.” She stands up and leaves.

He knows that if he offered his own name, it would be too much. So his hands stay in his lap, and he finishes his lunch alone.

Uhura is called to Vulcan three weeks later, for “personal reasons,” she says, but Leonard thinks that it’s probably just her or her bondmate in pon farr. He can’t tell if it’s her, because she doesn’t linger in medbay, or in Captain Pike’s ready room, or even in the shuttlepod down to the surface. 

Captain Pike decided that the whole crew could have a chance to visit Vulcan if they so chose, seeing as they were passing by there anyways. Leonard joins the away team- if it can even be properly called that when there’s a hundred crewmembers beaming down and taking shuttlepods. He wants to visit the Vulcan Medical Institute and Spock insists that he come meet his mother, so it seems like a good thing to do.

He keeps thinking about Uhura and her bondmate. He hopes they’re happy, if they can even be happy in the middle of pon farr, which from what blurry accounts he can find, appears to be akin to hell for Vulcans.

*

Amanda Grayson knows SSL and VSL, and even asks which one Leonard would prefer to use, without much of an accent in either.

“SSL is better. I’m not as fluent as I should be in VSL.” He feels almost sheepish in front of this woman, who programmed a decent portion of the universal translator and raised  _ Spock _ . 

“Wouldn’t it be logical then to practice?” There’s a twinkle in Amanda’s eye while she signs. She’s elegant and warm, and Leonard wonders how exactly she married a Vulcan.

“I should have known you would say that,” Leonard replies, slipping into VSL. “When in Rome.”

Ambassador Sarek is away from home when he, Jim, and Spock show up, and Leonard wonders if Spock’s timing wasn’t intentional, considering he has never heard Spock mention his father.

He still feels embarrassed when he catches Spock allowing his mother to hug him. Vulcan privacy is something that he does respect, despite his lack of understanding for how deeply private they all are. 

_ Well, _ Leonard thinks,  _ It’s not lack of understanding. It’s lack of desire to understand. _

He steps back and lets Spock and his mother have their moment. Jim wants to talk about his fears about his relationship anyways. Meeting the parents- well, parent- will do that. Leonard thinks briefly of Uhura’s parents, but erases the thought from his head. His feelings that refuse to listen to him have even less place now on her homeworld, while she is with her bondmate.

He thanks Amanda for her hospitality after lunch and makes his way to the medical institute, where it takes him fifteen minutes to find someone who can sign. Once he greets T’laren, she directs him to the database and briefly shows him how to search for what he wants. She’s as stiff as any Vulcan, and her sign language is crisp even for VSL. Leonard can understand what she means, though, even if his responses aren’t as good as he would like them to be. 

He spends hours reading about what Vulcan scientists have been working on in their research labs, so long that the sun is setting when he leaves. His ass hurts from sitting so long, and his neck is stiff from the odd angle the table was at. He feels refreshed though, and ready to dive into some research of his own in his spare time.

*

Leonard does not see Uhura again until they’ve been off Vulcan for three hours. She passes him in the corridor on his way to the medbay, and she moves so quickly he doesn’t have a chance to say hello.

She isn’t on the bridge when he goes to visit Jim, and he can’t hide his surprise. Uhura only takes one beta shift a week, and it’s not her day. She sticks to her routine almost to a fault. 

Jim asks, “What’s wrong?” when Leonard checks the comm station and sees Lieutenant Elyun’s broad figure instead of Uhura’s ponytail.

“Uhura’s normally working right now,” Leonard replies quickly. “That’s all.”

Jim gives him an odd look before his hands begin to move. “She’s on personal leave still. She won’t be working tomorrow either. The captain just said that it was a private matter and Uhura would be back soon. Spock knows what’s happening but he told me he won’t violate her privacy without her permission, and she isn’t taking any visitors, so.” Jim shrugs. “That’s why she isn’t working.”

“Thank you,” Leonard signs. 

He thinks about what could be going on with Uhura all day and into half the night. He is genuinely concerned that something is wrong, but it’s also just straight up curiosity. When he finally drifts off to sleep, he hopes that Uhura herself might offer an answer when she appears again.

She doesn’t.

She just sits across from him in the cafeteria the day after, her plomeek soup steaming and her nails perfectly manicured. 

“Good afternoon,” she signs in Vulcan. 

“Hello,” Leonard replies, watching her carefully to see if her appearance offers any clues. She just looks like she always does, though. Beautiful, but not like she’s been crying in her room for hours or anything. He doesn’t even think Vulcans are capable of tears anyways. “Did you enjoy your time on Vulcan?”

Uhura fixes him with a look that’s probably meant to make him wither into his seat. “I had personal business. I did what needed to be done.”

He raises his hands placatingly. “It was a question a friend would ask. If you don’t want to talk about it, then damn well say so.”

“I did,” she signs. Her face is impassive, with no trace of that hint at a smile. 

“I’m sorry. Can we go over some Vulcan? I have some questions after conversing with a couple Vulcans.”

“You went to the Vulcan Medical Institute?” Uhura doesn’t even wait for Leonard’s nod before proceeding. “Not very many Vulcans learn sign language, which is unfortunate. It stimulates the brain, even if many Vulcans do not know deaf people.”

“I managed,” he signs. “I noticed several different ways to end a sentence that we haven’t covered.”

He swears that a look of relief flashes across Uhura’s face, even though it’s impossible. “It’s possible, especially with regional accents.”

Leonard loves being a deaf man. He takes pride in who he is and hasn’t wished he was born hearing in a very long time. Uhura makes him feel something in that direction, though. Jim’s told him she sings, and has an incredible voice. Leonard wants to hear her sing or to speak one of the fifty-six languages he knows she speaks. He can grasp the concept of sound in some abstract way by feeling vibrations, but he doesn’t actually know what it’s like to hear someone’s voice. He wonders what his own voice sounds like, but it’s likely hoarse and odd-sounding due to how little he uses it.

Uhura signs confidently. It’s just one of many languages she is fluent in, and she has never shown any disregard for it as a form of communication. Captain Pike does appear irritated by the need for a translator occasionally, and Leonard often feels the desire to swear in his presence, just for the satisfaction of it. Willful ignorance is not his problem, and he does not have time for ableism in any way, shape, or form.

He forgets none of this during his interactions with Uhura. He is always conscious of the way she communicates with him. It’s different than Jim, who is casual and loose with his signs- and it’s not just because she’s Vulcan. There’s confidence, yes, but also something that Leonard can never put his finger on. 

It’s a month after Uhura’s odd seclusion before he realizes she always uses honorifics when talking to and about him. She always uses the formal address in Vulcan and  _ always _ calls him doctor, despite her lack of denial when he casually called her his friend. He doesn’t actually feel comfortable broaching the subject with her, though. He doesn’t know her real name, and doesn’t want to pry.

Everything is just stiff with her, despite the easiness Leonard wishes to have in their friendship. He knows by now though, that wishing for things won’t get him anything. He and Spock are on more casual terms than him and Uhura, and he spends far more time with her than anyone else besides Jim. 

All these realizations do nothing to change his feelings or help his relationship with Uhura, no matter if they remain friends for the rest of his life. He just wants to do something to relieve the tension, because  _ Jim _ is starting to get on his case- Jim of the thousand worries, Jim who doesn’t sleep enough, Jim who sometimes drinks more coffee than Leonard, Jim who refuses to talk about his traumatic childhood.

Leonard wants the dreams to stop and his feelings to go away every single moment of his waking hours. During his dreams, he’s not complaining. They’re almost always soft and sweet and leave him aching to hold someone- anyone- (really just Uhura, but he can pretend it’s someone else when he wakes afterwards and goes to sweat it out in the gym).

He’s running as much as he did when he was an angry teenager right now. His legs look great even if his mind is constantly in turmoil. Spock suggests meditation at dinner one night, after Leonard’s gone on his second run of the day.

“If I just sit there and try not to think, that’s when I start thinking about useless things,” he signs, “But thank you for offering. Running helps me focus on something else.”

Spock pauses before replying. “That is what meditation is, Leonard: Focusing on something to clear the rest of your thoughts.”

“Then I guess I’m doing fine,” Leonard signs. “I’ll meditate my way and you can meditate yours.”

Again, that pause. “Jim tells me that your feelings for Uhura are unchanged. I have dealt with unreciprocated feelings before, and I do not know how well I can advise you, but if you wish someone to listen, I am willing.”

Leonard doesn’t know how much it took out of Spock to say that, but he is surprised. “I’ll complain at Jim if I need,” he signs. “But I am honored.” He worries that he might come across as sarcastic, but he’s being genuine right now.

Spock nods. He gives Leonard that same odd look he has when he and Uhura are in the cafeteria together before turning and leaving.

*

Leonard exhausts tube after tube of paint painting his dreams. Maybe it’s to cope with it all, and maybe he just likes the fact that he can stare at a painting of Uhura and him holding hands whenever he wants. 

He learned after Jim, and is careful to always file the paintings in a drawer. Not that it matters, because hardly anyone comes to his quarters. Christine does, but she’s all-knowing and Leonard would never dare to hide anything from her. Maybe him hiding his paintings is for his own benefit, and maybe it’s also to keep Jim from giving him that fucking sad look and then asking if Leonard wants to talk about it.

Leonard always says no, because what’s the damn point? He doesn’t want to talk about the dreams that plague him, or the way his heart skips a beat when Uhura glances up at him through her eyelashes. He doesn’t want to talk about how his hands tremble ever so slightly when he thinks of her randomly, or how desperate his hands itch to tell her everything he has held inside for so long.

The day they manage to get some flesh eating slime on them- it had been awhile since Leonard deigned to grace an away mission with his presence, and he had forgotten how he attracts terrible things- he nearly loses it. 

It’s him, Uhura, Spock, and Jim in the bioscan room stripping silently, until they’re all in their underwear, and then he’s shuffling around the medbay afterwards, repairing the small bits of their skin that got burned. Jim and Spock managed to escape with almost nothing, but he and Uhura have burns on their arms that need to be regen’d, and quickly, so he ends up holding one machine to his wrist and another to Uhura’s forearm. In any other situation, he would be thinking about their proximity, but he cannot imagine anything while he is trying to do his job.

When he turns away to set the machines down and get his tricorder to make sure her psi receptors are regenerating properly, he turns back to find Uhura’s head tilted. She threw on a new undershirt and pants in the hurry to get the slime off her skin, and he only had time for pants, so he knows she had a full view of his back.

“You asked me once why I kept my nails long. Am I permitted a question in return?” Her signs are quick, but not messy. She does seem to be in some strange hurry, even though the danger is past. 

Leonard puts his tricorder down. “I don’t really have a limit on how many questions you can ask me.” He knows she’s going to ask about the scar. Everyone does. It’s nasty and far too straight to be an accident. “I might have a limit on answers, though.” He smiles, if a little tensely.

“Where did you get the scar on your back?” 

He scans her arm before he replies, taking his time to formulate an answer. When he finally puts his tricorder down, he grimaces slightly. The scar sits high on his back, between his shoulders. He still remembers walking Jim through stitching it up and picking the bits of replicated porcelain out of the wound.

“My ex-wife threw a broken plate at my back.” Leonard doesn’t elaborate anymore. He doesn’t want some strange Vulcan pity, or to talk more about how the woman he trusted betrayed him.

“I-” Uhura pauses, as if she is uncertain what to say. 

“You don’t have to say a damn thing,” he signs. Leonard turns his back and walks into his office. Leaving won’t solve anything, but it will mean he doesn’t have to deal with how painful an already odd situation just got.

He slumps in his chair and pulls the bottle of scotch he keeps in his bottom drawer out. He needs a goddamn drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Internalized ableism is something that all disabled people deal with, no matter how much they love themselves. Again, I’m not deaf and do not claim to speak for deaf people. If you feel like I (someone who has a different disability) have handled this poorly, please let me know how I can fix it. 
> 
> It's been a _week_ , so comments and kudos are extra appreciated <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is one, very brief mention of abuse that is not at all detailed near the end of this chapter.

Leonard tells Jim that Uhura asked about his scar the next day, when he asks why Leonard isn’t eating with her.

“I told her. There wasn’t any point in lying, and I had already asked her a personal question. Turnabout’s fair play.”

Jim takes a long moment to reply. “You think she’ll pity you? Seems unlikely, considering.”

“I can’t predict what goes on in a Vulcan’s head.” Leonard gestures wildly. “I’m not telepathic. It’s only the logical thing to assume, coming from a human, and even though Vulcans would like us to believe otherwise, they do listen to their emotions. I know for a damn fact that a lot of them get haughty for no reason around humans.”

“Has Uhura ever demonstrated that behavior?” Jim stares intently at Leonard.

“No, but she has been incredibly cryptic and she often ends conversations in the middle of them. I can’t figure her out.”

“That doesn’t mean you should end your friendship with her completely, Bones.”

Leonard cannot believe this is happening. Jim is giving him advice.

Jim. Giving him advice.

“You know I’m right,”  Jim signs. “Besides, Vulcans respect privacy. Just don’t mention it, and I’m sure she’ll leave it.”

“I’m not,” Leonard signs back.

Despite his scepticism, he still goes to sit across from Uhura the next day. She does not say a single word about his scar.

Jim raises his eyebrows when Leonard is on his way to the trash receptacle.

Leonard grimaces. Jim grins.

Sometimes Leonard wishes that Jim wasn’t such a little shit.

*

He still dreams of her, but his brain seems to have grabbed hold of the idea that he can trust her to not treat him like shit, and the dreams begin to spiral out of control. Leonard stays up one night so he doesn’t have to deal with the torture of it all.

Uhura decides for some damn reason that she’s going to pass him eighty times in the corridors that day, even though Leonard uses the replicator in his office for his coffee. He darkens his window so he can’t see when she passes by, on whatever errand she’s on, then brightens them again because his stupid brain wants to see her ponytail swing as she passes.

Spock’s with her once or twice and Leonard swears that his friend stares into his eyes the first time before swinging back around to resume his conversation with Uhura. It’s a little infuriating, Spock knowing so much about Leonard and saying nothing while he’s also chummy with Uhura.

If Spock was Jim, Leonard is five hundred percent certain that the entire ship would know about his crush by now. He supposes there’s something to be thankful for in this world, even if he would like his dreams back from the plague of Uhura.

Except she isn’t a plague. She’s wonderful and kind of mysterious and also ridiculously good looking. If Leonard is honest with himself, his complaints about and distaste for his feelings are completely his problem. Even if Uhura is married, his feelings are harming absolutely no one. Maybe he should be grateful for the material his brain is supplying him. After all, he actually gets to touch her in his dreams.

If Uhura senses anything off about him at lunch, she does not say. Leonard cannot believe he is thankful for Vulcan tact twice in one day. He mockingly holds his own hand to his forehead in his office later, but Christine peers in just then and he’s left looking like an idiot.

“Are you quite alright?” she signs, a twinkle in her eye.

“I’m fine,” Leonard replies, and picks up the padd he’s supposed to be reading in an attempt to appear busier than he is. It just makes him look like even more of an idiot, though, because Christine actually needs to talk to him about the supply records and he needs his hands free.

*

“Am I permitted a personal question?” Leonard finishes signing and promptly stabs a tomato harder than necessary.

Uhura nods, her hands occupied with her own salad.

“Is your bondmate well?”

If Leonard didn’t know better, he would swear that she twitched- _A glitch in her matrix,_ he thinks mockingly and then quickly regrets it. Uhura is far from a robot, despite being Vulcan.

“When we last spoke he was in good health,” she signs slowly. “Is the object of your affections in good health?”

He wants to leave right now- just grab a shuttlepod and disappear into space. “I believe so,” he replies, just as slowly. “She does not return my affections, as far as I’m aware, so I have only circumstantial knowledge of her wellbeing.” Fuck, he hates how formal Vulcan is.

It’s too much, he’s said too goddamn much and this is all too goddamn much. Leonard can feel the sweat begin to collect on his palms and back.

Uhura changes the subject abruptly, which she is prone to, and for once, he’s incredibly thankful instead of confused.

Leonard’s dream that night unsettles him more than it annoys him when he wakes.

_Uhura and he are in a boat on the pond by his childhood home. She sits across from him, her hands folded in her lap. She’s looking at the willow tree that droops over the south side of the water. Her eyelashes shine in the afternoon light._

_Leonard thinks of all the summers he spent jumping into this pond, water enclosing him for long seconds before he rose to the surface again. Irina has never liked water over her head, so she would always play in the shallows and watch him swim._

_He thinks with a start that Scott kissed him under that willow tree for the first time. Uhura’s head turns so she’s watching him, and Leonard wonders if she knows what he’s thinking about._

_“I had my first kiss under that tree,” he signs, unsure why he’s saying this. “I spent what feels like a hundred summers here.”_

_“My first kiss was under the light of the stars, in my home,” Uhura replies. They’re conversing in Standard, not Vulcan, which is unusual for them lately. This conversation is something they would never have outside of a dream, though, so it doesn’t matter._

_“Was it with your bondmate?” Leonard doesn’t feel like this is a rude question somehow. Maybe it’s because they’re in a place he knows so well, or because Uhura’s normally strict posture has settled some in her shoulders._

_Her brow furrows as she responds. “You know it was not. Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?”_

_“Who was it then?” Leonard feels slightly uneasy now. This makes no sense._

_“Leonard, you know that my first bondmate broke the bond when we were sixteen. Are you well?”_

_“Who’s your bondmate now?” Now he’s sweating. Something feels wrong._

He shifts in his sleep, his hands curling in his blanket.

_“Leonard, you are my bondmate. How is your health? Have you forgotten how many years we have had together?”_

_Leonard exhales sharply. He can sense her concern curling at the base of his skull, where their bond pulls clean and even.. He inhales and he can feel every line of worry that her face does not show._

_“I’m sorry,” he signs slowly. “I feel off today.”_

_Uhura tilts her head. “Is it the sun?”_

No, _Leonard replies, and it takes him a few seconds to realize that he did not reply with his hands._

He is slipping out of bed before his eyes are completely open, grabbing for his sweats in the dark. He doesn’t bother with a shirt, his mind too occupied to think about more than the bare necessities.

The gym is empty this morning, the lights flickering on when Leonard enters it. He runs for ten minutes before Uhura appears in his vision. He nearly stumbles, but catches himself on the treadmill. She chooses a treadmill in the corner, but she’s a little in front of him, so now he’s stuck.

He came here to try to erase his dream, and here she is before him. He wonders what it would be like to actually have Uhura inside his head.

Leonard realizes he doesn’t think he would mind as Uhura starts to run. She isn’t always in here at the same time as him, which helps immensely, but this morning is weird and wrong and he wants coffee, not to run until his feet refuse to stop moving.

He gets off his treadmill and leaves after a couple of minutes. Distractions are only so much good if they actually work.

It’s only when the doors swish shut behind him that he realizes he never put on a shirt. There is a possibility Uhura was staring at his back -studying his scar -for some indeterminate amount of time before he saw her.

He could erase the scar, see his skin smooth again in the mirror.  He considers it at least once a week. But he has never yet picked up the regenerator, never once actually held a trembling hand over the machine, or even brought it to his back.

Leonard shivers and jogs back to his room. It’s unlikely she cares that much, but he just feels off today.

The rest of the day doesn’t go any better. Jim manages to be in engineering when a warp coil starts leaking, so Leonard has to deal with his best friend in addition to five other people suffering from radiation poisoning.

He doesn’t get in bed until midnight, and the same damn dream as the night before wakes him up at five hundred hours.

He wants some rest from this nonsense.

*  


“I have no reason to be here,” Leonard signs. Spock has managed to drag him down to the observation deck after their shifts are over, insisting that he is required down there.

“You do,” Spock replies, his lips clamping tightly together. “I insist.”

Leonard briefly entertains the idea of strangling Spock when he turns the corner and sees Uhura waiting by the window. Instead, he turns and asks, “What the hell is this?”

“I am tired of this,” Spock signs. “You are both adults. Talk to each other instead of Jim and me."

Leonard looks at him quizzically. “I’m sorry?”

“You aren’t allowed to leave until you’ve discussed your feelings with her. I’ll be outside the door.” Spock finishes signing and leaves.

Uhura has turned towards him, and not for the first time, Leonard thinks that she could be a goddess. He doesn’t move, though. He’s petrified by what Spock has said, and even more afraid of what Uhura will do if he does what Spock is insisting he do. They’ve talked less than normal lately, and while it’s definitely Leonard’s fault, he isn’t certain that she hasn’t been more reserved either.

She starts signing after a long moment. “I believe that I should start by telling you that my real name is Khio'ri. Or at least, that’s the name my parents gave me. It means star,” she signs, and glances quickly at the window before returning her attention to Leonard. “Therefore, when I chose an Earth name, I also chose a first name- Nyota- that would correlate with my human ancestry and means the same thing. I have told those I am on more than professional terms with that it is my name. It’s in the Starfleet database. You would require a significant level of clearance to find my Vulcan name among any humans.”

Leonard’s hands begin to tremble. This doesn’t feel real. This is just another dream. He finally manages to sign something, after Uhura- Khio’ri- has been looking at him for far too long. “Is there a reason why you’re telling me this? That you’re entrusting me with this information?”

“You recall I was on Vulcan for nearly a week on personal business,” she starts. Leonard’s heart is in his throat. “My bondmate was in pon farr. I- alleviated his condition with full consent. Afterwards, we argued. It was not an experience I wish to repeat.”

Leonard is just standing here, wondering what the goddamn point is and wishing that the woman he cannot stop thinking about wasn’t telling him about pon farr.

“That argument was the culmination of months of disagreements. I respect his privacy so I will not enter into great detail, but I wish to be honest. Syvek and I did not see eye to eye about many things, and while the distance between us was manageable for awhile, he began to chafe at the thought of our bond growing fainter over time. I was not fulfilling his needs. He was not fulfilling mine either.”

Leonard swears his back is dripping with sweat. His hands feel clammy. This must be another of his dreams. He only has to wait and he’ll wake up.

“I never intended to be unfaithful to my bondmate, but I must confess that I was. It was emotionally and not physically, which was almost more difficult for Syvek to come to terms with. I was honest with him, and if he had not asked that we break our bond, I would have. It was unfair and cruel of me. I should have controlled myself better. However, wishing for the past to change is illogical.”

There’s a chance he looks like a complete idiot right now, but Uhura isn’t done talking yet, so he’s just going to have to continue looking like a complete idiot while she says more to him than she has in the past month.

“I am attempting to tell you, Leonard, that I have feelings for you. I am not certain you return them, or even want to, but I believe honesty to be the best course of action. Spock has assured me of this.”

Something in Leonard’s chest gives when Uhura says his name. He’s not even sure what he should be calling her right now, but Nyota might be a compromise between Uhura and Khio’ri.

“Nyota,” he starts. His hands are still trembling, and his signs look like a four year old is making them. He can’t care, not when something this important is happening. “Why do you think I wouldn’t want to return your feelings? What the hell gave you the impression that I don’t want you? I do. I do.” Leonard is repeating himself and he does not care. “I really do.”

This is a dream, after all. What he says does not matter.

Nyota steps closer to him. “You have not displayed typical interest in mating like other males of your species.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m not. It just means I was afraid of you finding out about my interest.”

“What is there to fear from honesty?” Nyota tilts her head.

“I’m not-” Leonard’s hands falter. “I’m not exactly prime dating material.”

“Explain.”

“My ex-wife abused me. I repress everything. I have Jim Kirk for a best friend. I don’t have a single thing to offer you.” Leonard can’t precisely say that he feels worthless in comparison to her, but he does. He knows he shouldn’t. He doesn’t want to. But he is a pessimist, and the reality of the matter is, he has no fucking clue what he would do if he and Nyota actually dated or what kind of future they can even have.

“Having dealt with abuse does not make you worthless.” Nyota’s eyes drill into his head. “Was your dream about me, then?”

Leonard falters. This doesn’t feel like any of his dreams before, and everything seems crisper somehow. It seems like perhaps too much honesty without any certainty. Fuck it. This is a mess, and his admittance won’t change anything. “Yes,” he signs. “A dream is but a shadow.”

Nyota tilts her head. “Hamlet. Act 2, scene 2, line 279. If your dream is a shadow, are you standing in the light?”

“I wasn’t aware you read Hamlet.” Leonard is avoiding the point of this entire conversation. He’s deflecting. His therapist would be giving him her Look if she were here.

“Vulcans are do many things humans are unaware of,” Nyota signs. “You have not answered my question.”

“I don’t know how.” Leonard doesn’t know how to do any of this. Jocelyn had approached him, and so had Scott. He guesses it isn’t any different, because Nyota started this too. Or maybe it was Spock.

“Is honesty so complicated then?”

It isn’t. It’s the relationship part that’s complicated. Leonard is not afraid of many things, but the thought of a woman hurting him again will make him shy away. After all, Nyota just admitted to him that she started caring for him while she was married. But she was honest and ended things. And she does want him.

“I think,” Leonard signs slowly, “that I’m willing to try, but I can’t do all this cryptic stuff. I need something solid and sure.”

Nyota steps forward. They’ve been a couple feet apart this whole time, but now she is a hair’s breadth from touching him. The light shines blue on her skin, and all his itching to touch feels suddenly frozen now that he is here.

She closes the gap, like she always has in his dreams, but this is electric compared to the softness of those images. Her skin is smooth and her fingers cannot wrap completely around his forearm, but he does not care about that.

Leonard stares at her hand, her body heat seeping through his uniform. When he turns his gaze to her, her face is right there, a few inches away.

Nyota tilts her head and looks up at him. Neither of their hands have space to talk, but he’s dreamt of this for far too long to circle anymore. She wants him to kiss her- he can read it on every one of her delicate features.

After a moment- it is only a moment, nothing more, passing as quickly as Leonard can make it pass- he places his left hand on her back and pulls her closer. She rises to meet him, her lips closing over his with some sort of finality.

Her hand slides down his arm, her palm now flush against his. A rush of warmth and light floods his torso, and he can feel the whisper of her consciousness pressing against his brain. She’s asking permission before she slips in, and Leonard kisses her harder as he thinks _yes_ harder than he has in a long time.

It’s the strangest feeling, being able to experience a kiss from both sides, but it’s not bad, and Nyota being inside his head isn’t bad either. Nothing about this is bad, but maybe it’s just been too long since he last touched anyone.

She brushes that thought out of his head almost immediately, her fingers curling around his.

_I am more than satisfactory when it comes to kissing._

_Of course you are,_ Leonard thinks back.

He finally pulls away, savoring the last moment before their lips part. Nyota is flushed, and her even breathing has a hitch to it if he watches her mouth closely. She’s still holding his hand, and he’s loathe to let it go, but he wants to talk, so he tugs away.

Leonard immediately feels the empty space in his head where she used to be. It takes a moment before he’s adjusted to being on his own again.

“Feelings for me, huh?” He knows he’s smiling, and it might be the first time in months.

“That is what I said,” Nyota signs. The corner of her mouth is turning upwards, enough that he doesn’t have to squint to see it.

“You want to go steady?”

“That is a pedantic term, but yes.” Nyota touches his wrist briefly, her fingers unnaturally warm. “I want you, Leonard.” And then, in her typical fashion, she changes the subject. “It is impossible to actually touch someone according to the laws of science.”

She raises her hand and touches his cheek softly, her fingertips dragging over his skin. “The electrons in my hand repel the electrons in your cheek. To touch is to participate in an illusion.”

“It’s a damn good illusion,” Leonard signs, wishing her hand was still on his cheek. He runs warm, but there’s something about her heat that makes him want to melt into her- to relax for the first time in years.

“My culture revolves around rules of touch. I have told Spock that I find this amusing when our society also values science so highly. Every child knows the basic structure and rules of atoms before their betrothal. I do hold to propriety and do not believe the rules and taboos should change. It is simply amusing in a technical sense.”

Leonard raises an eyebrow. “And what does Spock have to say about this?”

“Spock agrees that it is amusing, but would rather spend his time thinking of other things. He is a good friend, but I do not claim to be exactly like him.”

He likes this openness, the ease with which her hands move now that her guard has been let down. He wonders what else he will get to learn about her now that there is an understanding between them- the understanding he never hoped for.

Nyota tilts her head. “I do not believe I have ever seen you smile, Leonard.”

He wants to watch her hands sign his name until the image is printed on his eyelids. “I don’t think I’ve ever smiled in front of you,” he replies, and then he’s kissing her again, because he can.

This time when he pulls away, Leonard tugs Nyota over to a bench. They sit, their hands intertwined, for what may be an hour, but is likely only ten minutes.

Nyota turns, releasing his hand but remaining close to him. He turns as well, unable to see what she’s looking at. It’s Spock, his hands tucked behind his back. Nyota is talking to him- presumably in Vulcan, because Leonard can’t make out a single word of their conversation.

Spock switches to SSL after only a moment, though. “I understand that you have behaved as you should have some time ago. I am thankful you have done so, and I offer my congratulations.”

Leonard has to properly situate himself to reply. “Thank you,” he signs, and it’s genuine, even though it might be sarcastic. He never would have approached Nyota about his feelings if he believed her to be still married- which he might have believed for months further due to Nyota’s privacy.

“You are welcome.” Spock pauses for a moment before continuing. “If you would prefer to continue to be alone, it is possible to seal this observation deck off.”

Nyota looks at Leonard quickly before her hands move rapidly. “That is unnecessary.”

“I was going to ask Nyota if she wanted to leave anyways,” Leonard signs. “I have something I want to show her.”

Spock nods curtly. “I will intrude no further then.”

Nyota has always led him in his dreams, so Leonard considers it fitting that he leads her now. The corridors are full, and they are not holding hands, but he is still the first to step on the ‘lift. It’s seven floors to his room, and he is acutely aware of the space between him and her in the seconds it take the doors to open again. There’s another crewmember on the ‘lift, but they have no reason to suspect anything more than usual between him and Nyota.

Leonard still glances around before letting her into his quarters. It’s his own hesitation, concern for her privacy, as well as his own wish to keep people the fuck out of his business.

Nyota does not say anything, or step any further than just inside.

“I do actually have something to show you,” he signs. “I didn’t just bring you here because there’s a bed.”

She raises an eyebrow. “I believe you.”

Leonard shuffles through the drawer in his desk until he has what he wants. He lays the first painting, the one of her hands- clay encrusted under her nails and smeared on the backs.

Nyota grabs his arm, her face showing small signs of surprise. He continues to lay the paintings out, one by one. It’s not all of them, but it’s a lot.

She touches the one of the dream he told her about softly before glancing at him. “How long have you watched me?”

Leonard shakes his head slowly. “Since the first time I treated you. I was simply intending to do my job, and then my brain ran away from me.”

Nyota has the oddest look on her face. “I was not guarded the first time you touched me then.”

“I know. I saw your bondmate’s hands or something. I didn’t intend to intrude.”

“They were your hands,” she signs smoothly. “I was thinking of your hands.”

“Oh,” Leonard signs. His hands drop to his sides.

“It seems we have both been fools.” Nyota’s head tilts. “But we are here now, are we not?”

“We are.” He stacks his paintings neatly and puts them away before turning to her again. “You’re here,” he signs emphatically, before pulling her close to him. This intimacy is odd in its newness, but she does not seem to mind, and he is content for now simply to embrace her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here's](https://futurism.com/why-you-can-never-actually-touch-anything/) why you can never actually touch anything, if you're curious about the science behind that. 
> 
> Nanowrimo is...going. I have about 500 words left of chapter 5 and yet I'm off working on other wips. Next week's update _should_ be on time, but if it's a day or two late, know that I have school happening plus I'm working on other things. Some productivity is better than none!
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!


	5. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never like to leave things _too_ unfinished, so here's the epilogue, where all the happy and good things you wanted to happen happen. It really is full of tooth-rotting fluff, but you deserve it after all the pining and angst of the previous chapters.

Leonard tells Nyota he loves her the first time they have sex. She’s just stripped, and is waiting for him to take off his boots, but he stops with one still on.

“I love you,” he signs. Maybe the sight of a naked woman shouldn’t be the thing that induces him to voice his feelings, but maybe he’s been dreaming of just kissing her for a year now.

Nyota smiles, a real one that stretches her lips and moves her cheeks. She holds her hand out for him, even though he’s still mostly dressed from the waist down. Leonard takes it, his muscles easing as she enters his mind.

_I cannot say the same, but I do care for you. My feelings- whatever they may be- still lie with you._

Leonard kicks his pants off, trying to toe out of his boots without letting go of her hand. It mostly works, but her laughter inside his head is enough to make him give up.

He winces when she touches his scar for the first time, her fingertips trailing down his spine. That’s all it is though, her hand moving down. The wrinkle between his brows smoothes as she makes no move to discuss his ridged skin.

The sex is good- mind blowing really, what with Nyota bringing touch telepathy to the table. He wants to never leave her arms, and tells her as much in the soft brown of her own mind.

 _We do have duties,_ she says, and he can see her hands moving in his mind, forming the signs with ease.

 _Not until tomorrow at 0800,_ Leonard replies.

 _Your logic is infallible._ Nyota’s smile ripples through him, and he wonders how he got by for so long without touching her like this.

*

Leonard feels odd now, as if his longing cannot leave so easily after he’s spent so long with it. His dreams do not change, but they are less frequent. He no longer wakes and runs to erase them, instead Nyota wakes with him and they run together now, next to each other.

He can, for the first time in his damn life, be found smiling while he is at work. Jim gives him no end of trouble about it, but the little shit is only antsy because he’s waiting for his first command orders to come through.

There is no real conversation about moving in together. Leonard likes Nyota’s quarters just as well as he likes his, and she has no preference. Her things just appear in his room in small groupings until she sleeps every night with him.

They still sit across from each other at lunch, there being no logic in sitting next to each other when it’s nearly impossible to sign like that. Leonard’s VSL improves vastly now that he spends so much time with her. He enjoys taking such a strict language and twisting it to fit his preferences. Nyota tells him he has an accent, and he nods. “Of course I do,” he signs. “I like to make my mark on whatever I do.”

She knows exactly what he means. There are two hickeys hidden beneath the collar of her uniform right now.

“You should not discuss such things publicly,” Nyota signs, but she is not angry- she could not be when she enjoys his company- both in and out of bed- so much.

*

There are things he never tells anyone about their relationship- not even Jim, who he tells everything to- like the time he cried when he stubbed his toe and Nyota gave him a funny look and kissed his forehead. (Apparently she likes the sound of his voice when he’s swearing, even though Leonard is quite certain that his voice sounds like absolute shit due to disuse.)

There is also the look of reverence on her face when he kisses her before they leave for their shifts every morning. And the way her fingertips dance along his collarbone while she sings, the vibration of her song travelling through his bones.

He does tell Jim about how she likes to watch him shave, and other things that do not feel quite so private. Jim smiles when Leonard talks of Nyota- not his shit-eating grin, but the genuine happiness for his friend displayed on his face.

Leonard is glad that he has Jim to tell things to, and Jim always ducks his head and signs that it’s no problem. It isn’t of course, but he wishes that Jim would not be so reluctant to admit that his friendship means a lot.

*

Nyota makes him hang his paintings of the walls of their quarters. “It is illogical to have a preference when they are all of equal skill and value,” she says, but Leonard knows the ones she likes the best by the way her eyes linger on them. Her favorite is the one of her in profile, bent over her station on the bridge, but she will never say that out loud.

It’s six months before she enters pon farr- which Jim tells Leonard is exhausting but fun. He waggles his eyebrows afterwards.

Leonard can’t count how many times he’s flipped his best friend off. Jim gives him a shit-eating grin and flips him off in return.

After three days of Nyota’s embarrassment and desire, Leonard feels naked without her inside his mind. It’s not just the overwhelming lust and the inability to be parted from each other for more than a few minutes- it’s the oneness with which they move together.

Leonard and Jocelyn dated for six years before getting married. He never wants to be married again, at least not in the human sense. He was afraid Nyota would suffocate him, being inside his mind so often, but instead there is only comfort to be found in her company.

She sits next to him often, and is unafraid to touch him in passing. They are not like Jim and Spock, who are all over each other nearly every moment of their time together, but Nyota shows more affection than is common for Vulcans. Leonard wants to protect what they have, but it is no secret that they are together, not when they stand so close to each other and look at each other so often.

They have discussed Nyota’s rebellion against much of her heritage, but Leonard knows that logic is important to her, and not just for her wellbeing. There are thousands of years of forethought behind her practices, and he cannot begrudge her for upholding them. She could get away with less than she does, but she holds onto routine.

Leonard wasn’t raised with any religion. He still smiles at the dainty gold of Nyota’s Star of David necklace resting below her collarbone, and learns how to make challah when they are on shore leave, her hands kneading the dough as tenderly as she touches his face. Leonard feels as if he has been given a gift in his exposure to her religion.

Nyota cannot exactly communicate what Judaism means to her, not even in the easiness of their minds.

“It’s alright,” Leonard tells her, his hands full of assurance. “I would not ask you to part from any other aspect of yourself.”

“Thank you,” she replies, and he knows that her thanks is not the same as it always is- that it carries a certain weight in this conversation.

He gains a fraction of understanding the first time he steps inside the synagogue Nyota attended as a child, his anxiety at being in an unfamiliar setting tightening his shoulders. A chill goes down his spine and he shudders.

They are in the presence of a hundred Vulcans or Nyota would offer him a reassuring touch. Instead she asks him if he is alright, the only outward sign of her concern as she signs the furrow between her brows.

“I’m fine.”  Leonard replies in Standard, not taking the risk of having their private conversation interpreted by anyone watching. Vulcans are nosy, no matter their aloof appearance. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Nyota’s parents are there, and he can’t help but feel that everything about this visit to Vulcan was designed to make him a little uncomfortable. The service is interesting, even though he doesn’t like the way the interpreter signs.

“It looks like it was a hundred years since she last signed,” he tells Nyota later. She just raises her eyebrow and signs, “Perhaps.”

Dinner with her parents is interesting- to say the least. Her mother, T’rell, does not sign and therefore Nyota or her father must translate for her. T’rell says something once halfway through dinner that Nyota will not translate and her father hesitates to sign.

Finally, Vilten tells Leonard what his wife said. “If you had brought home your bondmate, you would have brought honor to our family."

Leonard’s fist clenches around his fork. He has no issue deciphering what T’rell did not say. Nyota places her hand over his, a movement far too intimate for even her parents’ company.

_I was unaware my mother harbored so many reservations about a life that is not her own. We might not have come._

_I’m glad I came. Just- maybe the dinner with your parents was a bad idea._

Nyota looks Leonard in the eyes, her gaze unwavering. He is acutely aware of her parents’ eyes on them, but he has no desire to spend another moment in their presence.

_Would you like to go for a walk?_

_Yes,_ he replies without hesitation. _Now._

They stand, still holding hands. Nyota says something to her parents and then they walk out the door together.

Leonard feels almost giddy, and beneath her skin, Nyota does too.

_We can go back in an hour or so. My parents prefer to meditate and rest earlier than most._

They walk for a minute or two in the light of the streetlamps, their hands still entwined despite the stares.

 _I am not ashamed of you._ Nyota’s hands fly in his mind. _I will endure discomfort to declare my lack of shame. Syvek bonded again within six months._

They stop by a tree, the shadow reaching across an intersection.

“I think I understand now, at least a little bit,” Leonard signs, loathe to let go of her hand, but needing to. He doesn’t want to have this conversation in a form of communication he has only used for months. “About why your religion is so important to you.”

Nyota tilts her head. “Explain.”

“I never believed there was a part of me that required a connection to something greater, and I will say that I questioned how a Vulcan could. But observing you these months, and participating in service tonight was- I think I could understand now.”

“I am willing to talk about it at any time you desire,” she signs. “I apologize for my mother’s behavior.”

“It’s not your apology to make.” Leonard wishes they were not in public right now, because he really wants to kiss her. “Are you really happy with the life you’ve chosen? There is so much here for you- so many people like you who share the same ideas.”

Nyota smiles, her public, barely there one. “Leonard, you should not ask questions you already know the answer to. I have made my decision, and I do not regret it. I chose the life I live long before I chose you.”

He doesn’t care if anyone is looking right now. He kisses her, short and sweet.

“You should not have engaged in such a public display of affection,” she signs afterwards, but it is simply a pretence.

*

A year passes before they can make it to Earth. Nyota is nowhere near as anxious as Leonard is about meeting his parents.

“Worry serves no purpose,” she signs, and urges him to meditate with her. But Leonard is a man of action, so he runs.

This time, Nyota runs beside him. It’s significantly better than the hours he spent in the gym trying not to think of her.

*

His mother welcomes Nyota with a warm smile and her abundant hospitality. It’s odd to be back in his home, his paintings adorning the hallway as if it hasn’t been years since he left. Nyota spends an hour just looking at them, until Leonard feels embarrassed.

“I enjoy your art.” She fixes him with her eyes. “How long have you been painting?’

“Just since the divorce,” Leonard signs, and looks away. His parents are downstairs making dinner right now, and he cannot help but feel as if they are too alone right now. Irina and her husband will be here in a few minutes, and they will all be a family together- what he never believed he could have after Jocelyn. “Is marriage something important to you?” He feels as if it needs to be asked.

“Yes,” Nyota signs. “But only when you are ready.”

“Thank you.” Leonard is always thanking her, but he never tires of it. The joy she brings to his life is something that he can never be thankful enough for.

His family converses entirely in sign language at the dinner table, a practice they have held ever since Leonard was born. Irina’s husband Mike is not as fluent as the rest of Leonard’s family, and certainly nowhere near Nyota, but he keeps pace well enough.

It’s easy and good- nothing like his experience meeting Nyota’s parents.

“I love you,” she tells him later in the privacy of his childhood room.

“I know,”  Leonard replies, smirking. “I know,” he repeats.

The certainty of their love will not leave him, not when he finally steps under the chuppah with her, or even when he takes the skin regenerator and moves with steady hands, his ring tight against the plastic.

Nyota notices, because she knows his body like her own. While they work, their bond is often pushed to the back of their minds, except when they think of each other- which admittedly is quite often.

“You didn’t have to,” Nyota tells him over lunch. “I’m used to it.”

“I wanted to,” Leonard replies. “She has lingered over my head for long enough.”

“Very well.” Her hands pause before resuming conversation. “Did Spock tell you about the meteor shower we will be passing at 2300 hours tonight?”

“He didn’t.” Leonard twists in his seat to peer over at Spock, who’s sitting at a table with Jim, Sulu, and Scotty. “But he’s occupied with a lot of things, so I’m not surprised.”

“Spock is never too occupied to make time for a friend,” Nyota signs, and fixes him with a look he can’t exactly figure out, even after all their years together. He reaches through their bond and finds only that she is smiling in that way that means he shouldn’t be so reclusive.

“I talk to Jim every damn day,” Leonard signs as grumpily as possible. “And I spend a significant amount of every day with my wife. There’s Christine every day, and Geoffrey too. Don’t say I don’t socialize that much.”

“It does not count as socialization if you are working, Leonard.” Now she’s giving him that reproving look.

“Is my wife kicking me out of lunch together?” He smirks as he signs the question mark, knowing full well that that’s exactly what’s happening.

“I have a question I wanted to ask Yeoman Rand,” Nyota signs, and stands up. “Sulu has a new plant you should enquire after.”

Leonard sighs and stands, grabbing his tray. _You’re terrible,_ he thinks.

 _It is not becoming to lie, Leonard._ Her ponytail swings as she walks away.

 _You seem to think I’m pretty damn hot._ He sits down next to Scotty. _I’m socializing now. Are you happy?_

Leonard can feel her satisfaction in his bones. _Shut up,_ he thinks, but he doesn’t really mean it. She knows, of course.

*

There was confusion about her name at first, but she likes Nyota, “or else I wouldn’t have chosen it.”

So he calls her Nyota most of the time. Sometimes- like on their anniversary or when he’s feeling especially in love with her- he calls her Khio’ri. Leonard likes the shape of her Vulcan name in his hands. There’s just something about having a special name for his wife that he wants to savor and save for special occasions.

She calls him Len maybe once a month, but every time her hands stop after three letters instead of seven, he can’t help but smile.

“You should call me Len more often,” he signs, every damn time, and every damn time, she smiles and replies, “Perhaps I should.”

*

It’s not as if they never fight in the years that stretch before and behind them. Their fights just never last very long because they care too much. They spend exactly one night apart- Leonard alone in their bed unable to sleep, and Nyota on the bridge, her hands clenching the instruments a little too tightly.

“Let’s never do that again,” he signs, the moment he is with her again.

“Agreed,” she replies, and leans into him.

*

There is a day that Leonard emerges from the _mikveh_ and a Magen David glints at his own throat. It does not come soon after their marriage, nor does he take a decade. It’s in his own time.

There is something to the community he has found that makes him feel more at home than he ever had before- an appreciation for the culture that was his wife’s and is now theirs that settles deep down within him.

They have a daughter sometime after, and Leonard has the privilege to watch his wife become a mother. It is a privilege to be a father too, despite his worries.

Sometimes he wonders if he ever even believed he deserved this good a life when he met Jocelyn. He doesn’t think so, not with the constancy of Nyota by his side now.

His dreams have slowed with the years and melted into something sweeter. He does not ever know how to explain it, but Nyota is always there with him, her skin pressed against his, and they dream together now.

Of what they dream, he does not always remember, but his paintings turn to his daughter and their home on Earth. (He had been willing to go to Vulcan with Nyota. He would have followed her anywhere in the galaxy the moment she asked. But she insisted on Earth and teaching at Starfleet Academy, where she is well-loved and he enjoys scaring first-years more than he should.)

Leonard does not believe in miracles, but he does believe in his wife. If she is a miracle, she will never tell- probably just curve her mouth in that barely-there smile and change the subject.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People who have been deaf since birth emphasize that they do not actually think in speech like we do, so I wanted to make sure that came across.
> 
> I would like to make it very clear that Leonard’s choice to remove his scar was not because his relationship with Nyota cured him or healed him in any way. When people move into healthier stages of life, or even just a healthy relationship, they are often encouraged (by themselves!!) to take steps in the right direction. The right direction is different for everyone, and for Leonard, his scar was a punishing reminder of what he lived through. When he was happy and sure, he no longer felt the need to be reminded of his abuse. 
> 
> All Vulcans are Jewish, so it stands to reason that Vulcan!Uhura is Jewish. I kind of didn’t breach this topic until now, because Leonard was so much on the outside that he would have known but it wouldn’t have had that much impact on his thought process.
> 
> You can find info on mikvehs [here](https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/the-mikveh/) if you're curious. 
> 
> Also, I finally caught up on Discovery this weekend, and I would like to assure you all that Nyota’s mother’s name being T’rell is completely unrelated to the Klingon L'rell. 
> 
> Finally I think some of you might be interested in knowing why this fic is named Sunflowers. Sunflowers can mean a lot of things, but here's the specific meanings I liked the most for this fic:
> 
> -Loyalty and strong bonds between two people, as represented by the strong and upright stem  
> -Seeking out positivity and strength, as the bloom turns to face the sun  
> -Brightening your mood, through the vibrancy of the yellow or orange petals  
> -Good luck and lasting happiness, especially in the Chinese culture  
> ([source](http://www.flowermeaning.com/sunflower-meaning/))
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading!


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